


Set Fire to the Sky

by Wind-At-Her-Heels (Countess_Eliza)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Angst, F/M, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, This is what would happen if the Lion King and Victorian AUs has a child
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:22:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26005645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Countess_Eliza/pseuds/Wind-At-Her-Heels
Summary: They used to call Duke Anthony Stark the Iron Man. Fitting his cold, sarcastic manner. Until his son, Peter was born. His life becomes more complete. But after a tragedy, Peter runs away. Not daring to go back. He was the one who caused all this.
Relationships: Betty Brant/Ned Leeds, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Obadiah Stane & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Obadiah Stane, Peter Parker & Pepper Potts, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 8
Kudos: 57





	1. On the Road Unwinding

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been wanting to do a Historical AU for a while now. This fic was born when I was reading another Irondad historical au and watching The Lion King. I’m really excited about it! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I’ve done a lot of research on England in the 1850-60s, but in no way am I an expert. I also took some artistic liberties with the dialogue and other minor details. A lot of the dialogue didn’t really work with these character’s personalities so I tweaked it a little bit. I’m not a medical professional either. I’m mostly just having fun with this story so please excuse my historical inaccuracies. 
> 
> Trigger Warnings: Minor character death, illness

They called him the Iron Man. 

  
  


Tony heard people whisper the nickname when he walked past them. He never responded to it. No one asked him what he thought of it. But Tony knew full well why people called him by the nickname. 

He was emotionless. 

He was stale.

He was cold. 

His first cousin, Baron Obadiah Stane took pride in his nickname. It brought more power to the family. Tony’s Father was called “The Merchant of Death”. His rank was lower then Tony’s, as he was a duke, yet somehow Stane wore his own better. Everyone knew. 

Tony was stale when Lady Mary Fitzpatrick approached him with the news that she expecting. His. He had scares like this before. None of them proved to be true. Until now. He knew that child was his own. During a ball, Tony had wooed Mary into his bed. She was only one of the women he’d lain next to. 

The two were not married. But to save Mary from a lifetime of misery, Tony agreed to marry her. Her parents were not afraid to show their displeasure. They did not care if he was bringing their daughter up another ranks. Which Tony thought was very generous of him. Once he caught the three of them in a conversation. Marquess Fitzpatrick was ranting about how terrible of a father he would be. Tony couldn’t deny that either. Starks weren’t meant to be good fathers.

He was emotionless during their wedding. Mary did not care for him. Tony had mixed feelings about her. On one hand, she was charming and sincere. Beautiful, of course. He only slept with the most elegant of women. Mary’s sense of humor seemed to not exist. No witty quip of his could make her at least smile. It was beyond frustrating. 

Tony was cold to Mary for most of her pregnancy. He had work to do. Obadiah kept him distracted. Mary never begged for his attention. The only time he saw her was during their evening meal. 

But all of that melted away when his son was born. 

Peter James Stark. 

A servant informed Tony earlier that day that Mary was going into labor. He could hear her cries throughout the entire manor. With all the noise coming from her room, he couldn’t get himself to focus. He found himself taking apart his own and putting it back together again. As Tony screwed the cap back on, a maid burst into the room. She nodded her head, slightly. 

“Sir, your child is here,” she said between gasps of air. 

Saying ‘your child is here’ was an odd way of announcing to your employer that his child was born. Tony did not like the way it sounded. What did ‘here’ mean? On Earth? 

He knew his curiosity pertaining to his newborn shouldn’t be. Yet Tony couldn’t fight it. He found himself to Mary’s chambers. He paused. Then knocked. 

His mother-in-law opened it with a grin. It faltered, slightly at the sight of him. But who else was she expecting? She inhaled sharply. 

“Mary isn’t exactly in the best shape right now,,” she warned him. 

“Neither am I, Fitz,” Tony whispered under his breath. 

He stepped inside. Mary sat upright on the bed, soaked in sweat, cradling what he assumed to be a baby. His baby. Tony neared the bed, blocking the sun with his hand. 

“Is this . . . ?” he said. 

Mary glanced up at him, eyebrows cocked with surprise. “This is your son, Mr. Stark.”

A son. An image of himself chasing a laughing toddler with curly hair and chubby cheeks through the gardens popped into his head. Making his heart swell. Before Tony only felt cold. Perhaps even frozen. But now he was warm. His chest was warm and full. 

Tony cleared his throat. “May I, uh, hold him?” 

She studied him. “Yes,” Mary yawned, “Take a seat.” Using her head, she gestured to the chair next to her bed. 

He sat, rubbing his hands on his trousers. “Alright.” 

Mary gently handed his son to him. Tony felt himself quiver under the pressure. He never trusted himself with his friend’s children before. He squeezed his eyes closed. Mary giggled. 

“He can’t hurt you, Mr. Stark.” 

“Yeah, yeah, right.” 

Tony opened his eyes and looked down. 

And there he was. His son. 

Tears flew to his eyes. He didn’t brush them away. 

He was perfect. Little mouth and cheeks. He opened his eyes. A dark mixture of brown and blue. But Tony was certain in a few months, his son would have his eyes. Nearly everything else he’d gotten from Mary. His eyes belonged to his father. 

A tear fell onto his son’s face. 

Tony mumbled a curse. “Here.” Using a hand, he whipped the tear away. When he looked up at Mary, she was sound asleep. “Gosh, baby-boy, you’re so beautiful. Am I really your father? I didn’t know Stark’s could make such brilliant things. I guess, you’re living proof, we can.” He paused. “Am I allowed to kiss your forehead? I don’t-I don’t know about these things. For the first time in my life, I’m clueless. But we can learn together, right? Yeah. I’ll learn for you. ” 

  
  


* * *

Later that night, Tony wrote to his best friend, Colonel James “Rhodey” Rhodes about the birth of Peter. He arrived two weeks later, with a present in one hand. He ignored Tony and began cooing over the baby. 

“Excited to see me, church bell? Missed you, too,” he said with dry sarcasm. 

With a wave of his hand, Rhodey playfully dismissed it. “I’ve seen you more often then what’s probably healthy.” He bent his knees to see Peter better. “Gosh, he’s adorable. I see he takes after Mary.” 

“Ha. Ha.” 

“But he’s your kid, Tones. I don’t doubt it at all.” 

* * *

Tony hadn’t heard from Obadiah in weeks. Ever since Peter was born. Before he usually called upon him to discuss matters. At first, it felt incredible to be freed of the stresses that came with the man. Dread crept over him. Telling him Obadiah was planning something.

But he didn’t accept Tony’s invitation to come to Rainport. It could be the fact he didn’t like children (especially babies). That wasn’t what he felt after reading Obadiah’s message. Instead Tony calmed upon his cousin. 

A maid directed him to his office. More informal, but the cousins knew each other well. Obadiah ignored him as he entered. 

“Hello, Obi,” he called out, “Having a nice day?” 

“What is it, Stark?” 

“Okay. Might as well get right to the case. I was only wondering if you were doing well?” 

That was a lie. Tony didn’t exactly care how well Obadiah was. But that was alright. He only grunted in response. 

“Alright. Mrs. Stark and I would like you to meet Peter.” 

There was a pause. A moment where Tony thought he might get a real answer. Then Obadiah stood and began guiding him towards the door. 

“Please excuse me, Anthony, I’ve got a bit of a headache. I should probably lay down. Good day.” 

With that, he left. 

* * *

Peter’s cries brought both of his parents to his room. Tony wasn’t asleep, anyway. Mary, though, usually came in case he was hungry. She nearly bumped into the wall as she heard his cot. Tony used his candle to see. 

Large bumps, white and bloating, had covered her hands. He recognized rashes like that. Smallpox.

“Mary, don’t!” he warned before she could touch Peter. 

She looked at him from under her eyelashes. Dark circle had gathered under her eyes. “What? I’m not in the mood for-”

“Look at your hands, Mrs. Stark.”

Mary did. She held them under the light. Peter continued to cry. Breaking Tony’s heart. A scream escaped her as she realized what it was.

“No, no, no. I can’t. I can’t . . .” 

Another sob from Peter got Tony to realize how close Mary was to him. He couldn’t get sick. Tony grabbed her hands, wincing at the disgusting texture. He brought her back to her room. Everything in there was infected. 

“How do I even-? Peter . . . Oh my goodness, Peter! Does he have it?” Mary shrugged him off. “You’re touching me! You’ll get it, too!” 

“I’ve had it before. I’ll be fine,” he assured her. 

Her features softened for a second before morphing into panic. 

“I’m going to die, Tony. I’ll never get to see Peter grow up or . . .” 

He grabbed her call bell and pulled as hard as he could. A few minutes later, Hogan, their butler, arrived. He was already fully dressed, most likely due to Peter’s cries. Mary crawled into bed. Shaking as she embraced herself. 

“Send for Doctor Banner. I’ll pay him anything. Just get him here.” 

The clock chimed four am as Hogan set out. Peter’s wailing continued. Forcing Tony to leave Mary. By the time the doctor arrived, he calmed down. 

“What’s the problem?” Banner asked. 

He whispered her symptoms back. Mary had a few more to add. Headaches, back pain and the rashes. 

Smallpox. 

Tony insisted he check Peter, as well. Thankfully he seemed to be fine. Mary spent the majority of her days writing letters. Saying her goodbyes to her friends. 

Her condition worsened with each day. 

* * *

The day Peter turned six months old, they sat at a funeral. 

Mary would have wanted him there. No matter how improper it was. She adored Peter with everything she had. Tony carried his son in his arms. Everywhere he went, Peter was there, too. His little hand grasped onto his coat buttons. He didn’t cry. Peter wasn’t a fussy baby. Tony was more then glad. 

Later that day, the sun chased the clouds away. To escape the grim dinner they held, Tony took Peter to the gardens. They looked at the flowers, then the trees. Finally, he stopped at the swing. The same swing his mother used to push him on. Tony sat down. Feeling like the little boy he’d never was. Keeping his toes planted on the ground, he began to rock them. 

“I apologize we have to spend your first year alive in mourning,” Tony said, “I doubt your mother would’ve wanted this. To be honest, Petey, I barely knew your mother. All I knew was she wasn’t bad in the bedroom and she was your mother. She was the one who gave you to me. We have her to thank for that.” 

It was raining just an hour earlier. Now the sun was shinning. Leaving behind the scent of the storm and little droplets of water on leaves and petals. Peaceful. 

“It’s peaceful after rain,” he observed, “Your mother . . . she was the rain. Her death, her tragedy. But she would want us to have peace after all this. I don’t doubt that, Peter. We’ll find it somehow. Our peace.” 

A fly buzzed by his ear. Peter whimpered. 

“Alright, alright. You don’t like sitting around. Fine. But I’m old, Pete. I need a break sometimes. Your old man’s going on thirty-six. Doesn’t that sound old?.”

Peter closed his eyes again. Tony began to hum his mother’s old song. Something about lavender’s blue and a young couple about to become king and queen. 

“I’m always gonna be here for you, Peter. I wouldn’t dream of deserting you.” 

  
  


Tony kissed his son’s cheek. 

  
  
  



	2. Through the Sapphire Sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for not updating in ages. The next chapter will be out sooner!

No nanny Tony hired or Peter could replace himself. From eating together to reading to him at night. If he could, he would bring Peter with him everywhere. When he was younger, he had a toy soldier, he clung to. It was his comfort object if there were such things. Now the very sight of Peter was enough to comfort Tony.

Peter was laying on his stomach in the library while Tony managed to get some work done. He had been discarding his duties for ages now. He even received a letter notifying him or this. His butler, Hogan entered the room, announcing the arrival of Obidiah. Who hadn't been invited to the manor. Yet he stepped into the room, shoulder raised as if he owned the manor.

"Look, Obi, I'm working," Tony said, "You should be proud of me."

The other man glanced around the room. Taking in the familiar books and sofas. Obadiah paused at the sight of Peter.

"What's that doing here?" he questioned.

" _That_ is my son, Stane. If I may ask, what are you doing here? I don't recall writing to you lately."

"That is correct." He took a step forward, making a shiver roll down Tony's spine. "I just worry about you, Anthony. You're all alone in this big house with only the company of a newborn. It's not good for a man.."

Peter pushed himself up to his hands and began crawling towards Obadiah. The man stepped backyards, nearly bumping into a lamp. Tony glanced up from the letter he was in the middle of. Peter was attempting to grab onto the table. He shot up and scoped him off of the ground.

"Were you trying to scare me, Pete?" Tony mumbled. Peter giggled. "Yeah, yeah. Hilarious. It's hilarious beyond words to worry your beloved father like that." He paused and tickled his stomach. "How are you already so big?"

"Where's his nanny?" Obidiah said.

"Visiting her ill mother."

"Doesn't he have any other caregivers?"

"Yes. Me."

Obidiah placed a hand on Tony's shoulder, making him flinch. "Anthony, Anthony, Anthony. You really think you're what's best for this poor child? You? A bachelor with no prior experience with children. You were too afraid to even interact with your godparent's children."

He hated the reminder. Aunt Peggy inviting him to hold their newborn. But his ignorance and foolishness caused him to reject the invitation. Instead, he got himself drunk.

"Not a bachelor anymore. I'm now a widower," Tony stated, adjusting his grip on Peter, "Now if you'll excuse us, it's time for Peter's nap."

Hogan closed the door behind them.

Forced by society to a ball, he was not looking forward to attending. His son was sound asleep, thank goodness when he left. Karen, his most recent nanny, was there to take care of him in case he woke. Tony dressed in his finest, for the first time in ages. He tucked his invitation into his breast pocket and helped himself into the carriage.

Tony instructed his driver to park a bit away from the other manor. Traffic was going to be dreadful. He was fine just to walk, even with the snow. As he neared the house, he saw a woman attempting to exit a carriage. The only problem was the pole of much that could easily reach her ankles. It could've been a simple fix, but her driver was gone. Tony approached her.

"Need help?" he asked, as he reached a hand out.

"Maybe a bit of assistance," she replied, sticking her foot out again then pulled it back, "Oh, goodness."

Tony switched to swinging the lady by her hips off. Once she was firmly planted on the ground, she bid her thanks. Instead of leaving, she studied him.

"You're Duke Stark, aren't you?" she wondered.

"Indeed, I am. You are?"

"Lady Virginia Potts."

He took her hand again, pressing a kiss onto her gloved knuckles. "Will you save the first two dances for me?"

"I will."

* * *

A week into their courtship, Tony brought Lady Virginia to the manor. The previous night, he told Peter all about her. He seemed ready. Karen stuffed him into one of his more proper skeleton suits. Lady Potts was due to arrive minutes before Tony brought Peter into the parlor. He found a book of nursery rhymes and insisted Tony read it out loud. That's where Lady Virginia found them.

"Lady Virginia Potts, my Lord," Hogan announced.

"Lady Virginia!" Tony sprang up, taking Peter with him. He set him down. "This is Peter." He crouched down. "Petey, remember what I told you to do when Lady Virginia came over?"

Peter approached her with wide eyes. He put a finger on her cheek. "You have pepper on your face."

Tony mentally groaned. This was exactly the kind of impression he wanted to make to Lady Virginia. Have his son point at her freckles and call them a type of spice.

She chuckled. "It looks like that, doesn't it?"

"Why?"

"They're called freckles. You have one right there." She tapped the side of his nose.

Peter turned to where Tony was now sitting. "You have pepper right there." He pointed.

He went on, finding every last freckle on everyone's face. Before moving on to telling Miss Potts all about his teddy bear, Norman, and the names of all the furniture in the room. She went along with it. Tony watched. His smile grew even bigger with every word exchanged.

It had only been a week since he met Lady Virginia Potts, but he knew he was in love with her.

* * *

The sun was finally shining again as Tony and Pepper strolled through the gardens. It was improper, border lining on scandalous for them to be alone together. But it didn't matter now. No one cared if a wealthy widower and an old maid walked unoccupied together.

They approached a bench with a fountain looming behind them. A gardener had turned on for the first time since the fall of last year. Tony waited until Pepper was seated before sitting next to her. He took her gloved hands, as he lowered himself into a kneel. Pepper rose, almost shooting up, but didn't remove her hands.

"Pepper, when I laid my eyes on you for the first time, I thought I saw an angel. When you met Peter and showed so much gentleness and love towards him, I knew I wanted to marry you. He loves you. Not as much as I do, though," Tony said, reaching into his coat pocket. He pulled out a ring. "Pepper Potts, will you marry me?"

Her hands flew to her mouth as she nodded. "Yes, Tony." Pepper cleared her throat. "Yes!"

With shaking hands, Tony slid the ring onto her finger. Then stood. He cupped her cheeks with his hands.

"Hey, what are all these tears about?" he teased, playfully, "I thought you would be happy to marry me?"

"I am . . . it's just," she inhaled, sharply, "I'm thirty-five, Tony. I gave up on the prospect of marriage years ago. I've been a burden to my parents. But now, I get to marry the man of my dreams and be the mother to his child." Pepper placed a hand on his cheek. "Thank you."

Her knees gave in as Tony pressed his lips to her. Pepper wrapped her arms around his neck. Every butterfly in her stomach stopped for this moment, as if time itself had. She never wanted to let him go.

When they finally parted, Pepper laid her head on his shoulder. "I love you, Anthony Edward Stark."

"I love you too, Virginia Potts."

* * *

"Well, I'm surprised at you, Tones," Rhodey said, as Hogan helped him with his waistcoat, "Truthfully."

"Uh, huh? And why is that?"

"You actually got Lady Virginia to marry you," his friend teased.

Tony used his free arm to hit him, playfully. "Oh, shut up."

The wedding was set for a Saturday in June. A popular rhyme warned them it was a day for no-luck at all, yet the couple ignored it. The day was sunny and warm. Pepper wore her best dress, blue with puffy sleeves and flowers embroidered at the bottom. Tony waited at the altar, wearing the same ensemble as he had when they met.

Natasha and Hope, family friends acted as the bridesmaids. Calming Pepper's nerves and making sure everything went right. Karen sat in the front row with Peter on her lap. He waved to Tony during the ceremony.

During the breakfast, Peter tugged on her dress. She sat him on her lap, beaming. He looked up at her.

"Are you my mama now?" he wondered, innocently.

"If you want me to be your mother, then yes," she said.

Peter nodded. He whispered something to her that Tony didn't catch. But it caused Pepper's features to light up and her to give Peter a kiss on the cheek.

Tony watched as two of his favorite people in the world became best friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


	3. The Sun Rolling High

Peter had never gone to a "children's ball" before, but he imagined it to be like one of the grown-up's balls. Once when Pepper was hosting a ball, he snuck downstairs. The adults were talking and drinking some red stuff from fancy glasses. Some were dancing. It looked more dreadful than the time he got in trouble and had to spend the day with the housekeeper to fold laundry. Peter decided he was happy that he was still a child. He didn't have to go to any boring balls.

But the invitation arrived.

He and Tony were eating breakfast together. Pepper always took hers in bed. As much as Peter loved her, it was nice to have some time with just his papa. Hogan brought the mail in. Tony thanked him as he opened one. Peter sipped at his water.

"Would you look at that, Petey," Tony said, scanning the paper, "You've been invited to your first ball."

"What?"

"The Duke and Duchess of Willowdale are hosting a Children's Ball and you've been invited. Don't worry, bud, I'll teach you my ways of wooing a woman." He patted his shoulder.

Oh, no. Peter already decided he didn't want to go to a ball. Not ever. He didn't even know who the Duke and Duchess of Willowdale were. They sounded like the undead couple in the book he'd read (that he wasn't supposed to and for good reason, he realized after finishing it). Peter set his fork down to tell his papa that he wasn't going to go. But what if Tony got mad at him? There was nothing worse than someone getting mad at you. Peter shyly picked his fork back up and continued eating.

He could always tell him later.

* * *

Karen decided he would wear a suit for the occasion. Peter hated that thing. It was stuffy and he could barely move. That's why he hated going to church so much. The jacket's ugly shade of brown didn't help either.

"Oh, little Master, don't you look so sweet," Karen fretted, "Your father will want a picture of this."

"I hate pictures," Peter mumbled.

She acted as if she hadn't heard him and ordered for the camera to be brought up. Pictures always took forever to do. Peter was even more cranky by the end of it. Karen seemed thrilled with the ones she took, even though she couldn't even see them. Peter rolled his eyes.

"Remember, I will pick you up at seven. Your parents are going to stay until the adult's ball is over," she reminded him, once again, "Good luck."

Peter took his papa's hand on the way to the carriage. Pepper was already waiting inside for them. He frowned again.

"This is so dumb," he muttered, under his breath.

"You'll get to meet Michelle tonight," Pepper said, "She's their daughter."

"She's just a dumb girl."

The carriage threw him around. Pepper had to put an arm around him to keep him from falling out of his seat. He hated riding in the carriage, Peter decided. When they finally arrived, he got out last. Maybe Tony would change his mind. But there was no such luck.

The manor was a bright white, nearly hurting his eyes. Peter took Tony's hand. They made their way to the ballroom. Already full of other children with their parents. A girl approached him. She looked like she was about to trip over her skirts. It didn't look like the typical dresses girls his age wore.

"My mother said I have to say hi," the girl said, dryly.

A woman approached them. Her eye shape matched the girl's and her stomach was slightly rounded. "Welcome, Your Grace. This must be Lord Peter." She glanced down at him. "The adults are gathering around over there. Michelle, why don't you and Peter practice your dancing together. There's something I need to discuss with the Duke and Duchess."

Tony bent down and kissed the top of his head. "Have fun, Pete. We'll be over there if you need us."

Sometimes Pepper would let Peter dance on her feet, but other than that, Peter knew nothing about dancing. He also knew nothing about this girl. Michelle. That was a dumb name. It sounded like it should be spelled with a "sh", but it had a "C" in it. She took his hand and dragged him over to where a few other kids were attempting to waltz. Two had fallen down. Their partners grimaced. Peter shuddered at the sight.

"So who're you?" he asked.

"MJ." She made a blowing sound with her mouth. 'Who're you?"

He tugged on his sleeve. "Peter Stark."

She bent at her waist and grabbed a handful of her dress, showing off the slightest bit of her shift. Peter took a step back, blushing brighter than the strawberry tarts in front of him. MJ grabbed a one and stuffed half of it in her mouth. His eyes widened, but not to be outdone, Peter also took a tart. Shoving the entire thing in his mouth. Bits of the filling squeezed through his fingers, making a mess.

MJ nodded, sticking her lower lip out. "Nice," she said.

"Thank you." He licked his fingers off.

The-what Peter assumed to be-governess took a step towards them. "Why don't you two practice your dancing now? Join the others."

MJ rolled her eyes but took his hand. Crumbs scattered on her palms.

"I don't know how to dance," Peter warned her.

"I can teach you. You step forward." She wrapped his arms around him. "Then to the side. Up, down, forward, side. Like that. One, two, three, four."

Dancing wasn't too hard. Especially with MJ giving him directions. She was slightly gruff about the way she did it. She looked at him for a long time. Not so he was uncomfortable. Peter kind of liked her eyes, he realized. They were pretty.

At the end of the hour, MJ waited with him until the driver arrived. She told him all about the book she was reading and seemed impressed when Peter told her, he could also read. They were only six, after all. Most children their age were still learning.

"You should come to my library," Peter told her, "It's full of lots of books."

"Really? I have to sneak books into my room. Father says I ruin the books." She finished in an annoyed tone and rolled her eyes.

"At my library, you don't have to hide any books. You can read . . . a thousand in one day! I did, once."

It wasn't true, but MJ didn't know that. Her eyes widened.

"That seems like fun. I'll ask my mama and father and you can ask yours."

"Okay."

As Pepper climbed into bed, she leaned over and whispered,

"I think I'm pregnant."

Tony popped one eye open. "Huh?"

"I think we're going to have a baby."

"What? A baby? Really?"

He nearly jumped out of bed. Pepper, who was sitting up, doubled over with her laughter. She wiped little tears away. Tony took her hand and pressed a kiss on it.

"Oh, Pep," he whispered.

"I thought it was impossible at my age, but here we are."

"Are you feeling alright? Stomach pains? Should I get anything for you?"

Pepper giggled. "I'm fine, Tony."

He sat back down on the bed. Hands interlaced with hers. Heart thumping faster then ever. Tony was going to be a father. Again. This time he was going to be there every step of the way and more. He couldn't let anything happen to her. Unlike Mary. Mary was in her mid-twenties. Pepper was going on thirty-nine. Close to forty. Several women had children at that age. Tony was born when his mother was forty-two. She was fine.

But part of Tony still worried.

* * *

Peter's reaction was as darling as he was. Tony wished he could capture the way his big eyes grew large with excitement. He jumped up and down on the sofa. Tony's worries about Peter hating the prospect of a younger sibling was melted away.

Around the mark of the second month, Pepper began feeling ill. Enough to put her in bed for most of the day. She kept a chamber pot at her side. Peter came in to entertain her with stories. Whenever Tony got a break from his duties, he spent it fussing over her.

At six months, Pepper was having migraines every other day. There was little that could be done. She sat in a dark room for the remainder of her headaches. Peter snuck into the room once when Tony wasn't looking. Pepper yelled at him to leave her alone. It was the first time she'd ever really yelled at him, scaring Peter out of his mind. After she apologized, he forgave her instantly.

Tony wrote to Doctor Banner nearly every week. Though he was a doctor, not a midwife, he reminded him time and time again of that. He still tried to answer his questions by asking a local midwife. After Doctor Banner announced his engagement, Tony began writing to him less, per Pepper's request.

He was thankful Peter didn't know the dangers of childbirth. Or anything about it for that matter. Tony didn't know much when it came to the subject either. Only what Bruce told him. The day Pepper went into labor, he took Peter around the gardens. They exclaimed each flower, every plant. Peter made up a love story about two butterflies. Along the lines of Romeo and Juliet. Tony could guess MJ told him the story.

When they returned to the manor, the baby still hadn't been born. It wasn't coming anytime soon, according to the midwife's assistant. So Tony threw some things together and ordered the driver to take them to their country house.

White sheets covered the furniture. Flies flew about the rooms. Peter took Tony's hand and dragged him everywhere. Every room. Even the closets that wouldn't even fit the both of them. The garden was barely alive. Only the weeds were thriving.

"How about this becomes our project, bud?" Tony wondered, with Peter on his back, "Let's fix this old place up for your little brother or sister."

"It's a brother."

He rolled his eyes. "Alright then. For your brother. What do you say?"

"Okay."

Tony beamed. "Okay."

* * *

When they arrived home, Natasha informed him that Pepper was in the middle of labor and to stay out. She didn't need anyone annoying her, according to Natasha. Which left Tony and Peter to sit on the recently whitened front steps.

"You'll be okay if the baby's a girl, right Peter?" he asked him.

Peter shrugged. "It's a boy."

"But if you do get a sister, that'll be alright?"

"I'm getting a brother." He picked at the grass.

"What if Pepper has another baby and it's a girl. Would that be okay?"

He hesitated before drawing out a long breath and answering,"Yeah, I guess."

When Natasha came back outside, her eyes glistened in the sunlight. She nodded, slowly. Tony sprang up from his seat. Peter grabbed his finger.

"Is the baby here?" he asked, tenderly.

Natasha took his other hand. "You bet, little man."

Tony went in first. Natasha promised to entertain Peter. He found Pepper sitting up in bed, slouching slightly. She held their child in her arms in a flurry of white sheets. Tony took a step closer. Then broke into a run. His hand covering his mouth, as he began to shed tears of joy. His secondborn was finally here.

"It's a girl," Pepper whispered, "Sit down so you can hold her."

He obliged, taking up a chair next to her. Tony held his arms out. Pepper gently handed their daughter to him. His daughter.

Little brown hair, matching his own, laid on top of her small head. Long eyelashes framed her eyes, above a button nose.

And Tony was in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww. Everyone's so happy right now. So cute.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	4. Through Despair and Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for not updating sooner! I had to rewrite a majority of this chapter, which took a lot longer than it should have.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Peter wasn't sure how he felt about Uncle Obidiah. He should love his family. Shouldn't he? At the same time, however, a bad feeling settled in his stomach whenever he interacted with the man. When Obadiah tried to hold, or even touch Morgan, Peter blocked him. He didn't want him communicating with his baby sister. Besides, why would he even want to talk to Morgan? Peter heard him once talking about how much he didn't like babies. Which was what she was.

Fortunately, Tony kept Obadiah away as much as he could. Being his cousin, it was difficult to uninvite him to some matters. Peter hated it when he would come over completely unexpected. Once, he came when Pepper, Morgan and Tony were ill. So that left the two of them. Obidiah was sent away shortly afterward.

MJ came over nearly every week. The two would spend almost all their time together in the library. She didn't have to hide her love of books and the sciences when she was at Rainport Manor. It brought a whole new world.

While browsing one day, Peter stumbled upon a dusty old book. He had to get the ladder to reach it. The cover showed an abandoned mansion. MJ began reading at once. Once she finished the first chapter, she closed it, shivering. Though it was not particulary cold in the library. The tale she'd read was horrifying. Complete with ghosts and blood-sucking demons. Yet it fascinated the children just as much as it terrified them.

They gathered up more ghost stories to read, hiding them away in the back room. All the adults seemed too busy with Morgan, anyway. MJ even found a few books from her library. The two devoured the stories. As Peter scanned through the covers, his eyes landed on one book. He pulled it out, reading from the title.

"Hey, this one takes place in Shadowplains Chat- Chat," he said.

"Chateau," MJ finished for him.

"Yeah! Papa and me went by it a few days ago. I didn't know it was haunted."

MJ twisted her lips into a wide smile. She gestured to him to sit next to her. Peter did, hugging the book to his chest.

"We should go there," she whispered in his ear.

"What?"

She nodded. "It'll be fun."

Exploring a haunted house was never on Peter's itinerary. Yet the more he thought about it, the more the idea appealed to him. Rushing through corridors to avoid angered spirits and waving through the gardens as they pranked the unrestful souls. When they got out, Peter would tell everyone at dinner. Pepper would be impressed. His father would squeeze his shoulder and pat him on the back with a grin. It made Peter's chest swell.

"Yeah!" Peter nearly shouted. MJ shushed him. "I mean, yeah."

The two formed a plan. Taking advantage of the new rules Pepper and Tony set for Peter about going outside daily, (after reading a book, apparently written by a professor who studied children, they enforced the rules). Hopefully, Tony would allow them to go on a walk to the park. Instead of going there, they would take the right path to get to the Chateau. With a few giggles and reminders to be quiet, the children reached the door to his office.

"No, Obi, Morgan's coming down with something. I can't just go to Buckingham Palace simply because you feel I should," Tony was saying.

"Dagnabbit," Peter whispered. Their plan said nothing about what to do if Obadiah was here.

MJ shrugged and continued to knock on the door. "Your Grace," she called out in a sing-song voice, "May we come in?"

Obidiah opened the door with a scowl. MJ frowned back at him as the children entered. Peter took her hand, swaying her slightly. Tony looked up at him. The lines under his eyes gave him a dull appearance, but he smiled.

"Papa, is it alright if we go for a walk?" he asked.

Tony leaned back in his chair, looking up at the ceiling as he considered it. "Fine with me," Tony concluded, "As long as Karen goes with you."

"She's taking care of Morgan right now." Peter put his hand in his pockets, balancing the balls of his feet forward. "Guess MJ and I'll have to go alone."

"Nice try. Ask Mrs. Chester to go with you."

Peter's shoulders slumped as he stared, frozen, back at his father. He didn't think that far ahead. MJ nudged him with an elbow. She stepped forward.

"I might be mistaken, but I believe Mrs. Chester is doing . . . housekeeper things," MJ said, "The house can't _keep_ if she isn't around."

"I'm sure the house will run smoothly without her for a few moments." Tony gestured to the door, ignoring Obadiah's frustrated huff. "Run along now. Before I make Mrs. Brewer go with you, instead."

That got both children out the door.

Mrs. Chester, though not married, was still called Mrs. as she was the housekeeper. She wasn't a "miss". She carried her square-shaped jawline high and pulled her gray hair into a high bun. MJ told him that wearing buns that high hurt after a while. Perhaps it was the pain she went through every day because of her hair that caused her sour attitude. Or maybe the hairstyle made her feel smarter, giving her the know-it-all attitude she had. Either way, Mrs. Chester was rather unpleasant to be around.

"Hurry it up, children," Mrs. Chester commended, after stepping foot outside, "I have things to attend to. The quicker we're at the park, the quicker we can leave."

Although she wanted to get to the park as soon as possible, she still made the children walk behind her. Insisting it was safer that way. Peter and MJ stayed close, exasperated at Mrs. Chester's slow pace.

"How're we going to get rid of her?" MJ whispered.

Peter looked back at Mrs. Chester, who was whistling to herself now. His insides squirmed. "I'll figure it out."

"What if we-"

Mrs. Chester spun around, giving the children little time to separate. "Oh just look at you two! Childhood sweethearts. I'll be happy to report this to your parents." She waved her hand in the air. "Especially with you two being betrothed and all."

"Betrothed?" MJ snipped, "That's impossible."

"Betrothed?" Peter asked.

"We're too young to be _betrothed_." MJ put her hands on her hips.

Mrs. Chester rolled her eyes. "It's been that way since you were born." She pulled out her handkerchief and blew her nose, rather loudly.

"Betrothed?" Peter repeated.

"Besides, I'm going to travel the world before _I_ get married," MJ said, "And when I do, I'm going to choose my own husband. Nobody's going to pick him out for me. That's preposterous."

"You're very lucky, Miss Jones, after all, _some_ of us never find husbands."

"Husband?" Peter said louder, "Betrothed?"

MJ turned to him, crossing her arms over her chest. "That means our parents decided we are going to get married when we're old enough."

"What? Gros," Peter said, "But you're my friend."

"Exactly."

Mrs. Chester gave a dry laugh. "Well, like it or not, you two lovers are going to be bride and groom someday."

"I think Mrs. Chester should be betrothed to Mr. Ellingham," she said in a low voice.

Peter giggled. With Mr. Ellingham's noisiness and Mrs. Chester controlling attitude, it was a match made in Heaven.

The park was soon in view. Peter hunched his shoulders. Perhaps they wouldn't be able to escape and go to the haunted house. He turned to MJ, whose eyes were shining. She gave a brief nod and whispered something to Peter. He smiled in return. Once at the park, Mrs. Chester settled herself onto a bench. MJ found a boy a few years their senior selling newspapers. With a bit of convincing, she coaxed him over to the bench.

"Emergency at Rainport Manor!" the newsboy shouted, waving a paper in the air, "Read all about it! Fire at Rainport Manor!"

"What? That's absurd!" Mrs. Chester jumped from her bench.

"Witnesses say the fire started because the housekeeper wasn't present!"

Mrs. Chester paled. She looked to the children, who were wearing mournful expressions.

"We need to get over there at once," she said.

"You go first," Peter said.

MJ nodded. "Yeah, you might lose your job."

Mrs. Chester nodded, mumbling something about them being right, as she ran off. Once she was out of view, Peter and MJ turned to each other. Bursting into giggles. They thanked the newsboy before walking away from the park. MJ was slightly ahead. Apparently, there was a short cut she knew about.

"I can't believe that worked!" Peter exclaimed as they were a few feet away.

"I know, right?" she replied. MJ glanced around. "Wait, which way was it again?"

He turned on his heel, confident he would still be able to see the park. But it wasn't there. Peter's stomach twisted. He grabbed onto MJ's hand again. She squeezed it. They were only a little ways away from the park. Weren't they? Peter led them in the other direction. No park. Not even a tree.

"Um, I, uh, I don't know . . ." Peter whimpered.

"We should probably-probably get out of here."

"Yeah. Let's find Mrs. Chester."

"You won't be needing to find her."

The male voice was rough with years of hurt behind it. MJ shrieked. Peter wrapped his arms around her. The way his heart was beating hard in his chest, he was convinced everyone could hear it. He wiped a tear away.

"Who's there?" MJ called out.

The man gave a breathy laugh. Her tears were flowing more easily now. Peter had to push her slightly as he broke into a run. Another man jumped in front of them. He reached out for them. But they were already sprinting the other direction. More men came out. From somewhere. Surrounding the two children.

"Your the duke's lil' boy ain't you?" one observed. He signaled to the other two.

"Yeah, I am." Peter took a step forward. "So you can't do anything to me."

"That's right," MJ agreed.

The man in front of them chuckled. "Technically." He paused, "We can."

In typical novel fashion, the group began to surround them. Peter held his fists out. The others only laughed at him. One of them grabbed MJ, tossing her off of the ground. She let out a scream and bit the man's hand. He didn't drop her.

"Let go of them."

The voice was crisp and clear. With layers of warning behind it.

Out came the Most High Anthony Edward Stark, of Rainport Manor.

He and dozens of coppers emerged from the fag. Tony's veins throbbed in his neck. Peter had never seen him so angry before. No one moved. Not even the men, as he approached their leader. He put a finger on the other's chest. Then again, digging in deeper.

"If you ever touch-or so help me- _look_ at my son again, I'll kill you." Bending his fingers and fanning out his palm, he tapped the man again.

The leader smirked. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Glad you asked." Using his free hand, Tony uncovered his pistol. Shinny, standing out amongst the fog. "I take it you're unarmed."

The leader's gaze was steady but revealed his uneasiness. He looked to his other men. Tony scowled deeper. Lifting his coat, he revealed his dueling sword.

"I'm prepared for anything," Tony said.

One by one, the other men disappeared. The leader watched them leave. He turned to Tony, who lifted an eyebrow, challenging him. The leader glanced back at the weapons, before he too, rushed off. After checking the area again, Tony bent down by the children, placing a hand on his shoulder. He glanced over him and MJ. The children huddled to each other's sides.

"Are either of you hurt?" Tony asked, softly, "They didn't harm you?"

"One grabbed MJ," Peter whispered.

Tony grabbed her hands. Her eyes were filling up with tears again. He pulled her closer. Peter leaned into the embrace. He picked the two of them up and carried them to the actual park where they sat on a bench together. A carriage arrived. Lady Jones exited, followed closely by her husband. MJ waved goodbye.

"Let's go home," Tony said, once the carriage was gone. His voice was a bit harsher than before.

"I'm sorry, Papa," he said an octave higher than a whisper.

Tony didn't answer, as they weaved through the fog. They passed the park while the sun was setting. Finally, he stopped. Peter arched his neck up, though his father didn't make eye contact.

"Peter, I'm very disappointed in you. You were reckless. You put MJ in danger. Both of you could have died, Pete!"

Peter sniffled, rubbing his nose. "I was just . . . Just trying to be . . . brave. Like you."

Tony paused. "I don't like being angry like that, Peter. Before you were born." He sighed. "Before you were born, I was a lot different. I was angry like that all the time because I was scared. I was scared again so that's why I yelled."

"Oh." It made sense now that Peter thought about it. Even when he got mad at him at home, he never yelled like _that_. It was less scary. He moved in closer to him.

The air was tight. Tense. As Tony sat down on a park bench, helping Peter up, too. The two looked up at the stars for a moment. The tension began to relax as Tony ran his hands through Peter's hair.

"You were scarier than a ghost," Peter whispered.

"Really?" Tony said, with a laugh caught in his throat, "A ghost, eh? That's not too bad."

Peter grinned. "MJ told me ghosts were the scariest things. But I'd give them-" He waved his hand "-Maybe a four scariness."

"I don't think they're that scary, either," Tony said, "I thought tickle monsters were much more terrifying."

"What's a tick-"

Tony clawed up his hands and began tickling Peter. The two laughed with each other. As they calmed down, they looked back to the stars. Studying them. Just the two of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little intro!
> 
> Come yell at me on my [Tumblr](https://wind-at-her-heels.tumblr.com/)


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